Cracks in the Clock Face
by AnonymousCreep
Summary: Roxas reflects on his lowest point in life when Axel finds him in Twilight Town. Warning: Self-Harm inflicted.
1. A Broken Memory

"Please."

The word uttered by the red-haired man, sounding as pitiful and helpless as he looked, didn't seem to register in the young blonde's head. His blue eyes bore into the man's striking green ones, which pleaded with him to remember. "Please. Try." He begged. "Don't you remember the clock tower? We ate ice cream up there countless times. Watched the sun set. I even told you why the sun sets red, right? Come on! Something's gotta jog your memory!"

The blonde shook his head. "Axel, right? S-sorry, but...I have no idea who you are. I think I would remember someone like you; you're so flamboyant." He offered a short laugh and a small grin. Axel growled in frustration, glaring at the setting sky, and grabbed the blonde by his shoulders. "Don't say that! I need you to remember something! Anything!" He swallowed thickly, trying to prepare himself for his own memories to come crashing back, as he grabbed the boy's left wrist and jerked the black and white checker print wristband lower on his arm.

Scars, old and pale, some white and raised, lined his skin, shining like a cursed treasure from the past. Axel couldn't bring himself to look at them; instead he focused on the younger boy's startled expression as the blue eyes searched the wrist. "Do you at least remember those?" Axel said slowly.

The boy switched glances to the other wrist, inspecting the skin. More scars littered the wrist in net-like patterns that spanned across the pale canvas of skin. The blonde asked more to himself than Axel, "How did I get these? How do you know about these?" Axel watched him silently. He didn't remember them after all. Suddenly, the blonde's eyes went blank as he brushed his fingers over the scars. The memories bubbled to the surface like bloody cuts...

Sobbing quietly in the dark, the shadows blanketing the boy, but failing to muffle the small noises he made, Roxas gripped the pillow from his bed with a vice-like hold. The pillow was wet with the blonde Nobody's tears. He shouldn't have been able to do that; cry; not technically, since there was initially no need for Nobodies to cry. They didn't have a heart to process emotion, to feel. Ironically enough, Roxas had been reduced to the small, broken boy he was now on the bed because of that fact that seemed to linger in the back of his head like _the voice_ that always seemed to be there.

Living like this was not living at all; he felt as though he were one foot in the grave already. Quieting down to a small shiver, Roxas swept his legs off the bed and leaned down, sweeping his hand across the floor, searching for the tiny sliver of metal he kept wrapped in a little piece of cloth. There it was, _the voice_. It sang to him in a familiar song; someone's voice, someone close to him. It was no wonder; the blade always gave him the artificial feeling that the someone the blade had stolen the voice from gave him. But he couldn't ever think of who it was.

Roxas didn't waste any time finding it, unwrapping the metal and holding in his hand. It was a tiny piece, sharp, and you could tell that it had once been part of a pointed blade. Touching the cool metal to the inside of his wrist, he swallowed,

"_we don't feel_"

,blinked back tears

"_we'll never have hearts_"

,and sliced down

"_I can't love you"_

, quick and careful so as not to disturb fresh cuts trying to heal.

The sting settled into pain, annoying and red, but somehow agreeable. It wasn't okay, but it worked for Roxas. It was more effective than crying and better than just dying. It stopped the not-living, filled him with something besides nothing: pain. _You don't need a heart to register fleshly pain. _Another cut appeared under the first, the another, then another. Thirteen in all. One for each Nobody who didn't have a heart.

Who were hollow and didn't care, didn't try.

When Roxas was finished, he didn't wrap up the cuts, which were bubbling blood to the surface. He replaced the metal under the bed, lay on his back and watched the ceiling sit stationary.

In the morning, Roxas was up early to throw out the bloody sheets.

Axel was waiting on Roxas at the clock tower ledge, his green eyes clouded in confusion. "You're late, Rox." He said, addressing the younger boy as he sat down roughly on the ledge. "That's unusual for you." Roxas shrugged. "Just a little caught up was all. Busy." He could feel 'busy' running down his skin, soaking into his black leather gloves. He was glad that his coat sleeves weren't close fit like Axel's, irritating the cuts.

The evening sky was an angry red, like the reasons why 'busy' was running down his skin.

Usually, the redhead made the urge to feel less "not-living" disappear. But not today. Today, he didn't want to be next to him. He didn't want him to know; see the red trickling down his arm, and if he did see it, ask why Roxas did it. Please. No questions. Unable to face his friend, feeling so much emptier now (was this guilt?) Roxas quickly stood, his head swimming, and nearly teetered off the edge of the building. Axel grabbed his arm, gripping the open wrist. Roxas quickly regained himself, jerked away from Axel and hissed, "Let go!" His blue eyes were dark beryl, sparking like fire.

"Roxas, what is wrong with you?" Axel said. "I was just trying to help you; you almost fell off of the tower!"

"You should have left me!" Roxas didn't mean it; did he? He didn't mean to shout at Axel, didn't mean to cause the hurt look that spread across his face. "Roxas..." Axel said, his voice a mix of confusion and pain. Roxas couldn't bring himself to stay there, to answer to Axel's questioning eyes, to make him hurt anymore; Roxas backed away and ran to the stairs.

He didn't see Axel try to follow him, stop, and discover the slick blood on his glove. He just heard the metal shard calling to him, screaming to glide across his skin again, and knew that he needed it.


	2. Mine

Roxas had gradually slowed the speed he'd been cutting, now menially flicking it across his left wrist; he'd run out of room on his right. He didn't hear Axel storming down the hall, and barely had time to pull his coat sleeves down over the cuts before the redhead threw open the door. "Tell me what's going on. _Now_." Axel demanded, his green eyes piercing. Roxas blinked, switching positions on his bed.

"Nothing's going on." He could feel the blood trickling down his wrist. Axel needed to get out now. But the Flurry of Dancing Flames stayed rooted in the doorway; he wasn't having any of that. "You're lying. Roxas, you aren't like this." He said. "You never used to be so moody and secretive, you never locked your door," Axel threw his arm at the sliding door that many of Castle Oblivion's quarters had, "And you sure as hell never said things like what you said on the tower." Axel's eyes sliced into Roxas worse than the blade. "There is definitely something wrong. Tell me, now."

Roxas stood, trying to match Axel's anger, but failing miserably. "There's nothing wrong! Really. I'm fine. Just get out. I'm not in the mood." Axel moved to retort something, but as Roxas finished, blood droplets fell from his fingertips to the floor. Roxas slipped his hand behind his back. Too late; Axel went pale at the red drops on the floor, his green eyes wide. "Roxas..." he breathed, looking pained. An uneasy silence passed; Roxas looked at Axel with a defiant glare, and Axel broke his silence, asking finally, "What have you done?"

Roxas didn't react quickly enough to dodge Axel's swipe at him. Axel held him fast and pulled away the sleeve of his coat, exposing the tattered skin underneath. He held both of the boy's wrists gingerly in his gloved hands. Roxas could feel the man's green eyes piercing into the cuts.

The pain flared and he winced. Axel quickly released his hold, as if he were afraid of Roxas' blood. Maybe he was and suddenly, Roxas was as well. "Am I hurting you?" Axel said, worry staining his voice. Probably without knowing, he whimpered. Roxas felt chills run icy fingers down his spine. Axel didn't know what to do. He'd always thought that Axel knew everything, but now, looking at his scars, the redhead was left clueless. It was Roxas' fault. _I just mess things up_.

"The skin's shredded." Roxas didn't answer. Axel was right. His wrists were trodden with cuts, some redder and fresher than the others. They crisscrossed over his skin, new ones trampling over old ones, scars barely healed from the last few cuttings. The piercing green eyes were wet. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Roxas? H-how lone have you been...mutilating yourself?" Roxas couldn't meet Axel's eyes. "I...I..." The blonde couldn't find his words. Were there any?

"Roxas! Damn it, how long?" Axel's voice was too loud. "Shut up!" Roxas could be louder. Axel stared at him. Roxas pushed the sleeves over his arms, his wrists still stinging, only this time, the sting was far from pleasant now. It hurt, so much. He stood in the middle of his small room, avoiding Axel's eyes, trying to ignore the new pain. "One or two months now. I forget. It's been too long." He finally replied. Axel's eyes widened. "As for why," Roxas continued, "I wanted to feel something. Anything at all. We're nobodies, Axel. We don't have hearts. We don't have emotions. It's like we're dead, physically alive, but we'll never be fully. I don't want that. I want to be somebody. I want to know what I am."

Roxas' throat stung. "But how can I when I'm not...not...anybody." He sighed, his exhale shaky and unsure of tears. "I once met these people. These kids." He laughed curtly and softly. "Well, I didn't actually meet them. More like, I saw them. I was envious of them. I _wanted_ to be envious of them. They were happy. I wanted to be like them. I don't want to be a reject, messing everything up like I do on missions. I wanted to be happy, to have friends, to feel..." Roxas nearly dropped to his knees. "To feel loved."

The pain was enough to drown under. He needed the metal sliver, needed it now, again so soon. Needed to bleed out the pain of almost-living. Roxas felt his chest tighten, eyes blur. Was he really going to crack in front of-

Axel had the blonde boy in his arms before he could register the embrace. "You...you're so stupid, Roxas. What do you think I was doing around you all this time; stalking you? You're my friend, and I'm yours, no matter what you say." He said into the blonde's chaotic hair. Roxas was frozen in place. Then suddenly, the first sob was muffled by his buried head in Axel's chest. Axel let him cry, smiling softly.

_You're mine_.


	3. Healed

Roxas shook his head. Axel stood before him, his face concerned, but hopeful. Roxas looked back at the white scars. Axel looked ready to explode with questions. "Please tell me, for all that time we spent standing here; did you remember anything?" Roxas nodded slowly, looking at his feet. Axel's pale face flooded with relief, and he exhaled a thankful sigh. "Rox, you have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that," he paused, "I mean, see you nod that." Roxas' head remained bent. He pushed Axel's hands gently away from his shoulders. The fiery red looked confused. "I-I'm sorry. I did remember something." Looking up at Axel with watery blue eyes, he tried to form a sentence. "I was a..." his voice trailed off. "I still don't really know who you are. You say you're my friend, but are you really? I still don't know what you're talking about. I just know that I did something wrong." Axel's smile was gone, his posture spelled disappointment. "No. No, Rox...c'mon, try to remember. Try hard. I need you to remember the Organization."

Roxas bean to flush a shade of white. "I don't...Hey! Let got of me!" He jerked away from Axel, who had grabbed his arm, preparing to open a Corridor of Darkness. "You've remembered something. There's still a chance...I'm taking you back."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Roxas' hand glowed with light and took the fluid shape of a key; Roxas moved into his defensive stance, holding the keyblade with a determined glare. Axel looked taken aback by the blonde's resistance. "Roxas. Come on. Please. Don't be stupid." Roxas took a trembling breath and shook his head. "I'm not going Axel. At least, not without a fight." It was clear that Roxas was indignant to Axel's wishes, and so, with reluctance, Axel summoned his chakrams in a flurry of flames, not having the heart to spin them jauntily in his hands as he usually would. He glanced half-heartedly at one of the tips of the chakrams; one tip had been broken off, chipped. "Do you remember this? You used to cut with the chip that broke off of my chakram." Axel said, more to himself than Roxas. "I found it under your bed the night you left. The night you forgot about me. I thought you quit that night."

Roxas swallowed. "I'm not going to make this easy. You're coming back to me, conscious or not." Axel said, then catching himself, he said, "Back to the Organization." And then Axel was a wildfire.

Roxas blocked the sudden blows of Axel's chakrams, consistent, fierce swipes, aiming to put Roxas in a situation where he would either be knocked unconscious or forced to surrender. But almost none, Roxas noticed, were designed to actually injure him. "You're gonna regret this!" Axel hissed over the clanging of metal. Roxas doubted Axel's half-baked bravado. "You're holding back. I'll never go back if you keep fighting like you're scared." Roxas said, hoping to exasperate Axel into giving him the upper hand.

Axel smirked. "You...can't say that I didn't miss your snide comments." Something in Axel snapped, just like that, broke suddenly; Roxas saw it in his eyes. The attacks became much more brutal; all traces of Axel's assassin-like movements gone. Now, he fought for blood. Roxas wondered what had caused the break in the Flurry of Dancing of Flames demeanor. It was so sudden!

Maybe his plan was working too well? Instead of getting flustered and sidetracked, Axel seemed to be more focused than ever.

A wild swing from Axel, out of nowhere it seemed, sent the keyblade flying out of Roxas' hands. Roxas' found his face wet; reaching up to touch his right cheek, his fingers drew back red. Almost in that same instance, Roxas was flat on the ground, the air knocked out of his lungs. Axel didn't let up, his chakrams blazing now, green eyes burning and furious. He raised his weapons...

Roxas was sitting up now, startled by Axel, who was suddenly embracing him, shoulders trembling and sagged. Roxas, out of the corner of his eye, saw the chakrams, the flames dying, lodged in the stone ground. He tensed when he realized now that, if the fiery weapons had been moved just a few hairs to the left, he would've been killed. But he wasn't; he was here in Axel's arms, listening to the older man sob softly.

Roxas thought to say something, but, not knowing what to say, decided to stay quiet. "I can't do this." Axel finally said, his voice thick. "I can't..." Roxas slowly found his voice. "Before...you told me that if I didn't go back with you, you'd get turned into something horrible. A dusk?" He could hear a heartbeat in his ears. Whether it was his or Axel's was unknown. "Are you scared?" Axel was, for a time, silent. Then, he sniffed, and a small smile lifted his voice. "Yeah."

He laughed dryly. "You would think a Nobody like me wouldn't be crying like this." Axel sighed. "It hurts. Not having any real emotions. Did someone ever tell you that?" He pulled away and looked Roxas in the eyes. "Is that why you started cutting?" Of course Roxas didn't answer; he didn't remember. Instead, he said, "You don't have to hurt; we've all got hearts. That's what makes us 'us'. We're all here for a purpose; we just have to learn why. Maybe that's why we are what we are. That's why we exist."

Axel's eyes flickered.

"When did you become a philosopher, Rox?" Roxas looked at his arms. His eyes fell on the barely visible scars and he felt a little empty. Empty words for an empty person. His face flushed a little. "Uh..."

Axel sighed, contentedly now. "Ah, no one could say you didn't have a heart, Roxas. You're so full of life, then and now; there shouldn't have been a doubt that you didn't possess at least some part of your heart." He paused and regarded him. "You're an odd one." Roxas felt himself being swept into another embrace. "That's why I love you."

**-AC**


End file.
